The Journal
Kenneth A. Ritley — Independent Study High School Project, based on Daniel Defoe’s Robinson Crusoe
For reasons of posterity, I feel it justified to give freely my account of what happened to me, in the form of a journal which I kept all during that bewildering time.
Dec. 13, 1983
Three days have passed since that terrible event; nay, shall I say disastrous event, which so quickly landed me in this incomprehensible, harsh environment. Never before did I scarce even consider that a happening such as that — That — could have so effectually rendered me, poor miserable Kenneth Ritley, in such a place so utterly devoid of all humanity and happiness as this. How might I have predicted its forthcoming?
Even when I muse over the actual circumstance of my arrest, my heart begins to pound and my breath to become shallow and quick, as if one of Satan’s demons stood over me that very instant, taunting my soul with his tail. I remember the large, black African dressed all in blue (and who, some years earlier, might have brought a fat Guinea or two on the open market, less handling costs, of course), how he so rapidly approached me and exposed his arms that I might see them, and be afraid, and cease my activity; and how, upon the termination of my activity just now mentioned, how he did push my body in a most uncomfortable way against the embankment and proceeded, in the due course of his search, to examine my person for any illegal possessions, which he found none, if I may say, after an unduly thorough endeavor.
Need I make mention of the thoughts which at this time began to cross my mind? Of those things which I might have done to be so deserving of his efforts, I thought about, but then one by one, and after some due consideration, for with my hands effectually bound I had an abundance of time in which to think, systematically eliminated bizarre or impossible, or highly improbable, to say the least. Yet all the while I could not refrain from sensing that that African had good cause, or shall I say that he thought he had good cause, for my detainment in so thorough and so violent a manner.
In a short while some audible and mechanical cries I heard signaled the arrival of more of the African’s kind, and as I looked up (for I was laying prone upon the ground, my hands bound behind my back) I saw their brightly-lit vehicles approach in the night. Blazing chariots of light, they were, crying and shrieking still louder as they neared, and setting afoot in my stomach no small amount of fear; and in my bladder, as well, for I soon began to think that I could not any longer, as they say, contain my emotions.
With their arrival, I ceased all my reflections upon my life and forgot the thought that it was God and His Providence that somehow brought all this down upon me. As those chariots, one by one, stopped on the roadside, their masters and chauffeurs, which by their dress alone were not indistinguishable, emerged and hastened on foot in their approach to me. Evidently, my tall African, as I began to think of him that way, in sight of the way he looked after me in the few short moments I knew him; as I say, my African payed particular good attention to his associates’ coming, as did I, and no doubt felt as much emotion in their presence, for as they met he stood with only the most perfect of posture and quickly proceeded to give an entire summary, brief but concise, of the events which led inevitably to my detainment; and all this he did without the least inkling of direction from his associates.
Upon some small conference between them all, for now there were six in all, they stood me up off the ground where I had lain and, with a bright candlestick in my face, proceeded to read to me a full account of the rights I had; this I found very reassuring, for not so much as once did they read to me any of my wrongs. Upon receiving from me my consent that I understood my rights (which indeed was something I felt very compelled to do, especially after the cordial way in which they elaborated upon all of my rights and none of my wrongs in the first place; and in the next place how they so graciously awaited a response from me); upon receiving this, as I say, they helped me into one of their chariots, though still with my hands bound, and chauffeured me off to their “station,” as they called it — a place which I at first incorrectly construed to be some center for the arrival and departure of coaches as public transportation. The bitter-will I harbored towards them, and especially to that African who handled me in so violent and rough a manner, soon subsided and was replaced instead by good-will, especially after I found that one of the men offered to sit beside me in the coach, or chariot, as I have called it, and so accompany me to the “station” in that manner, attentive to me to the last degree, moreso than any manservant I had seen or owned attended to his master. I found his attitude to be most gracious, and that he was especially interested to hear anything that I might say.
Indeed I thought still more highly of them for, as we arrived at the station, one of the first things they did was, much to my surprise, thoroughly and carefully wash my hands. (Oddly enough, a strange man working there, and who I had not as yet seen, took my hands and smeared them in some black ink; he was obviously some type of idiot, if not a true moron, but was quick to learn and when one of the other men looked upon him, this moron carefully dabbed my fingers onto some blotting paper and then, when he saw that not all of the ink was removed, gave me a moistened tissue with which I might remove what he did not.)
Shortly thereafter I was ushered into what I gather was some sort of lounge, for there was a table with a lamp, several chairs, which I did not at all find to be comfortable; and there were several very odd-looking quills, though not so much as one bottle of ink to be found.
Into this room came with me the six men and African I had before seen, two other men (one of which was dressed in the same manner as were the six and the African), and yet another man who sat not at all with the other men, but with me.
What next occurred seemed very puzzling to me, and to this very day I still cannot figure why it happened. One of the first six men I had seen, and who had brought me to this “station,” as they called it, though I could see no other such carriages nor chariots nor coaches of any sort hereabouts; this man asked me a question. I cannot recall what he asked of me, but this is of no concern, for the man sitting beside me, and who I had now gathered was acting in my behalf, told the other men that I should not answer that question, “lest it would contradict ‘the Fifth Amendment’.” This continued, and with every question asked, my friend, for this was as I now thought of him, remarked those selfsame words. This to me seemed very odd, in the first place that the men would continue to ask questions when they knew full well, or at least could predict with some degree of accuracy, what that man’s reply would be; and in the next place, that such a strange amendment would exist, that would prohibit me from answering any questions; I thought at long last that they should consider having so silly an amendment as that was, abolished.
All the while I could not as yet ascertain why I was being held against my will, or by whom, and whether any small hope for my recovery and deliverance from the place which I was at was in store for me in my near future.
Alas now, this thirteenth day of the last month of this nineteen hundred, three and fourscore year of our Lord, being evening, I tire and can scarce go on.
